


Friends

by oj_lod



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series), Thomas Sanders
Genre: Angst, Child!AU, M/M, Pre-Canon, Prinxiety - Freeform, its based on a prompt, its mostly brotp but the feelings are there, not as fluffy as it first appears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 06:45:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11526747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oj_lod/pseuds/oj_lod
Summary: He thought they would always be friends.A collection of moments between childhood best friends Anxiety and Roman.





	Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Again, this was written before the name reveal! I really enjoyed writing this one, as I'm not usually an angsty writer

Roman doesn’t know what year or month or day of the week it is when he first meets Anxiety, but he remembers the moment.  
He’s coloring at the table. Thomas is busy with homework, which he isn’t used to, so Roman is kind of on the back burner. He’s vaguely aware of Thomas’s mom scolding him for leaving the project for too long.  
“Roman!” Morality calls out to the boy. Roman looks up from his picture to see the oldest trait leading an unfamiliar figure into the room.  
“We have a new friend! Why don’t you show him around? I’m sure he’d like to get to know you!” Mo ruffles Roman’s hair before slipping back out.  
The new boy is thin, with a too-large coat and too-small shoes, which he stares at instead of meeting Roman’s eyes. He reminds the young Prince of a nervous alley cat he’d seen once on Thomas’s walk home.  
“Hi there!” The boy doesn’t answer.  
“I’m Roman, what’s your name?” He tries again. No answer. The young prince bites his lip, thinking hard. He’s not about to be bested so easily.  
“I’m coloring, do you want to see?” The other looks up and gives the slightest of shrugs. “Awesome!” Roman walks back over to the table and picks up the paper. “It’s a dragon witch, see? It’s got fire and magic and lasers and stuff! I’m gonna battle it!” He uses the paper as a makeshift sword, with his own personal sound effects. He has a sudden thought. “Hey, do you want to draw too? I don’t mind sharing my crayons!” The new boy seems to consider for a long while, before very softly nodding. He goes over to the table and grabs a piece of brightly colored construction paper and a black crayon. Roman smiles and goes back to his dragon witch, as the other boy colors the entire sheet of paper black.  
“Ooh! Logan taught me a really cool trick with that earlier, let me show you.” Roman reaches over to grab another piece of paper. He then pulls out a small Swiss Army knife. “Don’t tell anyone I have this, Mo would freak out.” He scribbles quickly with a thick layer of black crayon over the red paper. He then gently presses the knife into the wax, just above the paper. He scratches it off in the shape of a crown, then holds it up. The new trait’s eyes widen slightly, a small “woah” leaving his lips. He grabs a popsicle stick and tries it on his own paper. Satisfied with the result, he begins to doodle. The work in contented silence for a while.  
“Um…Roman, right?” Roman jolts up at the sound of the other’s voice.  
“Yeah!”  
“You asked what my name was earlier…” He squirms in his chair. “I don’t have one. Thomas’s mom called me ‘anxiety’ when he asked about me…but I don’t have a real name like you do.” ‘Anxiety’ looks down again, putting an unnecessary amount of concentration into his doodling. For a moment, Roman is just shocked by the unfairness of it all. Why would you bring a trait into the world and not give them a real name?  
“That’s okay, I’ll give you a name! Can I call you Ann?” Anxiety shrugs.  
“Sure, if you want. I don’t care.” But Roman can see the way his mouth turns up.  
“Well, Ann, I’m super glad to meet you! Can we be friends?” He holds out his hand. Ann stretches out his own hand, pausing for a second before grabbing Roman’s.  
“Yeah. Friends.”  
2 weeks after Ann comes to live with the rest of them, Roman is woken up by a knock on his door. He’s been practicing his vigilance lately, so as soon as he hears the noise he’s awake, with one hand on the knife Mo still doesn’t know about.  
“Come in?” It comes out too much like a question to be as brave as Roman would’ve liked, but all thoughts of that fled his mind as a tiny, shivering Ann crept through the doorway.  
“H-Hey Roman.” He takes a couple steps back. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you, I’ll just go…”  
“Nonsense!” Logan had just taught him that word yesterday. “If something has upset you in the dead of the night, it’s my duty to kill it!” Ann looks slightly taken aback and opens his mouth to reply. He’s cut off, however, by a loud clap of thunder. He lets out a small squeak and cowers. Roman can feel Thomas whimper too, his fear and anxiety getting the better of him. Ah.  
“Oh, I see. That’s a pretty bad storm, isn’t it?” Ann nods.  
“But it’s dumb to be scared of them, you probably think I’m really lame. And, I-I know I’m scaring Thomas–I’m not trying to, but I am and so you probably hate me, too.” He rambled. Roman feels his heart break a little.  
“Ann, don’t be silly. About the hate, not the storms!” He clarifies quickly as the younger’s face drops even more. “I know you’re just doing your job, trying to keep Thomas safe, right? Anyway, thunderstorms are pretty scary. I used to hate them, but then Logan told me that the sound is basically clouds bumping into each other! Cool, right?” Ann rubs his eyes quickly.  
“Yeah, I guess.”  
“Hey, come over here.” Roman pats the bed next to him, the other boy pads over, hesitant as always. “So you know how I’m Thomas’s creativity and stuff?” Ann nods. Roman grins and snaps his fingers. The large window high above his bed shifts from bleak rain and clouds to a bright, sunny day. Shadows from a tree bounce against the glass and cast the whole room in dappled light.  
“Woahhh….” Anxiety smiles in spite of himself. “That’s so cool.” He turns to look at Roman with shining eyes. “You’re really cool.” Roman blushes in spite of himself.  
“Of course I am!” He tosses Anxiety a blanket. “Just because it looks warm doesn’t mean it is. Don’t be foolish.” Ann rolls his eyes, but smiles and wraps up anyway. They spend the next hour cycling through window designs, everything from lightly falling snow to a tropical beach with waves lapping against it. After a while, Ann’s eyes start to flutter shut. Soon enough, he leans against Roman’s shoulder, completely asleep. Roman gently moves the other boy so that he’s lying on one of the enormous fluffy pillows that lined the bed. They both sleep better than they have in a while.  
“No, no, hear me out!”  
“Ro, for the last time we are not sneaking back into the middle school late at night and using Mr. Brunsby’s tables to make a skateboard ramp!” Ann gestures wildly with the straw of his smoothie.  
“But it would be so cool!”  
“Thomas will break something, and it’ll probably be a bone.” Roman sighs, flopping dramatically over onto the floor. Deep down he knows it’s a stupid idea.  
“Why do you have to be such a buzzkill?” Ann wraps his arms around Roman, smirking. “It’s just what I do, Princey boy.”  
“Ew.” Roman pushes him off, though secretly he doesn’t mind all that much. The other trait is weirdly warm and it’s kind of nice. “Okay, so what about–”  
Slurp. Ann makes deadly eye contact as he sips his smoothie as loudly as possible.  
“What about if-”  
S l u u r p  
“Ughhhhh. I was saying–”  
Sluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurp.  
“ANN!” Roman shrieks and hits Ann so that he tips over, laughing wildly. “I hate you.” He puffs a lock of hair out of his face and pouts. Ann looks up from his spot on the floor.  
“You love me.” As Roman looks at him, hair a mess and the grin still stretching across his face, he thinks that Ann just might be right about that one.  
“I hate high school.” Ann wails, flopping onto the couch. Mo makes a sympathetic coo and offers the younger trait a cookie. “It’s terrible.” Roman joins him on the couch.  
“Tell me about it. But hey, at least there’s auditions for the musical on Friday. I can’t wait to get back into it!”  
“Yeah, yeah, Mr. Born-For-The-Stage. But speaking of which, is Thomas prepared?” Roman smiles proudly.  
“Indeed! We have our song choice down, and we’ll make sure that he gets a good night’s sleep.” He pats Ann gently. “But, I know you get worried. Do you want to assist my conquering of the theatre?” He offers Ann the script. The other pushes it away. There’s a sick feeling in his stomach. Thomas really, really wants to do well on this.  
“Are you sure? What if you forgot something?” Roman frowns, his brow furrowing.  
“Yes, I am quite sure. And no, everything is in order.”  
“You don’t know that though, do you? Not really.”  
“Ann, don’t antagonize him.” Logan calls from across the room.  
“I’m not trying too! Look, all I’m trying to say is that there are a million things that could go wrong.”  
“And that’s not helpful.” The prince says, a little icily. Ann feels his throat constrict a little.  
“Um…I’m just going to go. You guys don’t need me here.” He gets up and quietly begins to leave the room.  
“Ann,” Roman says gently. “Just go for now. We can play video games later, how about it?” Ann shrugs and slinks out.  
When that Friday morning comes and a very anxious and sleep-deprived Thomas pours orange juice in his cereal, Ann can feel Roman staring at the back of his head.  
A plate smashes.  
“Can you just stop?”  
“No, I can’t! If I could, I would!”  
“Thomas has been so happy lately. He likes the campus, he has friends, and he’s doing so well. Ann, I lo–like you, but you can’t just take over like this!”  
“I’m not trying to!” His voice is harsh, abrasive and cold. But Roman isn’t oblivious. He’s learned how Ann reacts to things. He’s about to cry.  
“Ann, listen to me–”  
“Don’t call me that! It’s not my name.” Roman is slightly taken back. There’s never been any rejection of the nickname before. “Anxiety,” he says slowly, the syllables sounding wrong and foreign on his tongue. “Anxiety, you’re my friend. I care about you. I want to help you.”  
“No, you don’t.” Anxiety hisses. “You want me to go away. You want me to just stop existing.” Roman is getting frustrated.  
“You know that isn’t true!” He’s starting to see red. “Christ, Anxiety! You know what? Yeah, my life would be a lot easier without you! Is that what you want to hear? That you’re a burden? Well great, cause it’s true!”  
Roman has never felt more suffocated by silence. Ah, crap. He’s messed up. Anxiety–no, Ann, his Ann–really did start to cry then. Hot, angry tears that slipped down his cheeks.  
“Hey,”  
“Save it.”  
Morality sighs.  
“You two have been attached at the hip since the beginning of your existence. You’ll make up.”  
They don’t.  
Then, Roman cries, too.  
It’s a Saturday morning, and Logan suggests they all do a spring cleaning of the mindspace. And Logan, who for all his brilliance could learn to take a hint or two, decides to pair up Roman and Anxiety.  
“You two have disagreed on the pettiest things. It’s high time that you resolve your issues through teamwork.” No amount of groaning or complaining from either party could change his mind.  
And so, the two traits end up shifting through a box of Thomas’s old memories. Anxiety mutters the entire time about how Logan probably just wanted a chance to make out with Morality. It was a fair accusation.  
“Hey, remember this?” Anxiety says, out of the blue. He holds up a beaten up cardboard crown. Roman leans over.  
“Oh, yeah.” He reaches behind the crown. “What’s this?”  
“Hey maybe don’t–” Roman pulls out a photo.  
A much younger Roman and Anxiety are hanging from a tree branch, both holding popsicles. Roman is giving the camera a huge, gap-toothed smile, and the photo catches Anxiety mid-giggle, slightly blurry. He still brings his hand up like that when he laughs. The back of the photo is covered with Morality’s loopy handwriting. Princey and Ann, age 10.  
“I remember that…” Anxiety says, very softly. Roman nods.  
“You know, back then I thought we’d always be friends.” For a moment, the look on Anxiety’s face is one of pure misery. Loss is scrawled so plainly across his features it’s almost painful to look at. Then, he smooths his expression out and gets up.  
“Yeah, well that’s where you were wrong.”


End file.
